Captured Boxed Set: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart (18 page)

And there lay another issue—his
attraction to her. It didn’t help she’d gone from drowned, wretched looking sea
creature to feisty and surprisingly attractive female. Dry, her hair was
streaked yellow and brown in a strangely attractive manner and curled slightly.
Her backside, which he’d not noticed previously, was round and inviting. As for
her two breasted shape, he enjoyed the way her round breasts filled out the
fabric of his shirt and how her nipples protruded through the fabric, begging
for a mouth to suck them.

No. We do not play with the
merchandise.
Wait, that applied to virgin stock.
From the way this one spoke, she was far from that state.
Although, she
might end up as frozen food if she keeps haranguing me. S
he followed close
on his heels as he strode away in an attempt to escape her tirade.

"There will be no selling of
me and my services," she screeched from behind him.

Tren ignored her and kept walking.
What she wanted didn’t even factor into his decisions.

"Ooh." Exasperation
colored her exclamation, and a moment later, she attacked him, pummeling his
back in a fury with her fists.

Seriously?
He turned and her blows rained on his rock hard abdomen. He stared
down at her while she vented her wrath and only when she slowed did he drawl. "Done
yet?"

She raised sparking brown eyes to
his, and he couldn’t help notice the pink flush on her cheeks. He found himself
captivated by the redness of her lips, their natural color, he assumed, now
that she’d warmed up. He missed seeing her knee, though, which connected with
his cock with unerring accuracy.

"Now I am," she sassed,
sounding all too pleased with herself.

Tren gritted his teeth through the
burning pain, and before she could inflict more damage, he grabbed her and
upended her over his shoulder.

"Put me down," she
yelled, pounding his back with her fists.

"No."

"I will not let you rape me
you—you purple pirate!" she exclaimed.

"Like I said, I have no
interest in your body. Not enough breasts for my liking. But lack of body parts
or not, I’m going to sell you to the highest bidder." His words, delivered
in a menacing tone, did nothing to halt her mouth.

"You can’t do this to me. I
demand you bring me back to my planet. I will not be sold like-like an object."

"Silence," he roared,
smacking her bottom with the flat of his hand to grab her attention. When she screeched
in rage, he smacked her again and again until she quieted. A shame because he
would have enjoyed slapping it some more, perhaps naked. She did have the most
delectable bottom. "Finally, some quiet. Now listen up, Earthling.
Firstly, we’re not even in your star system any longer, so returning you to
your home world is not an option, which, believe me, I am already regretting.
Secondly, I’m beginning to think unless I muzzle you or remove your tongue,
I’ll never have any luck selling you. Men like their females docile and
biddable. And quiet, very, very quiet. A lesson you might wish to learn. And
three, my ship, my rules." 

"Your rules suck."

Tren’s jaw dropped in surprise at
her reply. Did this female not own common sense? Only idiots antagonized him—and
never more than once. He made sure of that. "Anyone ever tell you that you
don’t know when to shut up?"

"All the time, but let me ask
you, how would you feel if your boyfriend tried to kill you and then you got
kidnapped by an alien who wants to sell you? Would you just give up?"

Then, to his horror, she burst into
tears.

"Oh, no.  No tears. I won’t
tolerate that. You stop crying this instant," he ordered.

She just sobbed louder.

At a loss, Tren, who’d reached the
command center at last, dropped her into his chair and stood back to survey
her. His captive smirked at him, not a trace of tears to be seen on her face.
She’d faked it.

A grudging admiration at her spirit
tugged him, but annoyance at her drama tempered it. "I see even Earthling
females are prone to the same dramas as all females the universe over."
Her reply to his disgruntled observation? She blew him a noisy kiss and flashed
her index finger at him, which probably meant something back on her planet but
just gave him an urge to bite her digit—then suck it.

Pushing aside thoughts of places
he’d like to nibble on her frame, he discovered a curiosity about some of her
earlier words. "Why did your male companion choose to kill you? Was it
because you wouldn’t shut up?"

"No," she replied, her
spine straightening as he intentionally goaded her. "He wanted my money.
Stupid me, I didn’t know he was a con man until he decided he no longer needed
me. He pushed me off a boat and left me to drown."

Strangely, the actions of her male
partner angered him. Not that he let it show. "Lucky me, I now get his
botched remains. I warn you right now, you’d better start behaving because if I
decide to kill you, I will succeed." He gave her his most dangerous look
and waited to see the fearful respect he’d grown accustomed to.

She stuck her tongue out at him,
and Tren almost went crossed eyed at her temerity. "Go ahead," she
taunted.

"Are you insane, female?"
he roared. "I told you to behave or else."

"Why bother? You already said
you intend to sell me," she accused. "That’s not very nice, you know."

Tren shrugged. "Niceness
doesn’t enter into it at all. It’s just business. You were a part of my catch,
and I can’t just release you; it wouldn’t make financial sense when I can fetch
a small price for the trouble you’re going to incur."

"What trouble? Are the space
police going to come after you for abducting me?" Her tone and eyes
brightened at the prospect and Tren almost laughed.

He controlled himself, keeping a
serious mien plastered to his visage. He did, however, snort before replying. "Policing
is for those that are a part of the universal coalition. Your backward planet
doesn’t count and everything on it, including its people, are fair game. Most
slavers just can’t be bothered with your kind because of your mental instability."

"Our what?" she
sputtered.

"Screaming hysterics and lack
of basic understanding of how the universe works." He shrugged. "Actually,
kind of like the behavior you’re currently exhibiting." He moved sideways
and avoided the foot she swung his way.

"Well, at least we’re not
rude, overbearing jerks," she retorted.

Tren growled at her and bared his
teeth. To his annoyance, she didn’t even flinch. "Do you know how easily I
could kill you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh,
please. Save the big bad routine for someone more gullible. If you didn’t
murder me after I kicked you in the balls, then you’re not going to for just
talking."

A scowl crossed his face at her
reasoning, and to his amazement she laughed, a rich throaty sound that made her
lips curve enticingly and her eyes dance. It also made his cock swell with
interest. He didn’t like it one bit.
How am I supposed to make her respect
me if she finds my threats amusing?
He’d never run into that issue before.
Most beings cowered, fainted or wet themselves when he turned his displeasure
their way.

He needed some space from her and
the contrary emotions she evoked. "I’ve got work to do. Don’t touch
anything." He barked the command at her, but she just continued to grin in
a way he found disturbing. To ensure she didn’t attempt to drive them into the
nearest star, he tapped a panel on the wall by the elevator and locked the
console to voice command only—his voice—then left. To his surprise—and odd
disappointment—she didn’t say a thing to stop him.

Good.
It’s about time she gave that tongue of hers a rest.
Although, he could think of other ways she could exercise it. Ways
that made his cock strain the crotch of his pants.

Chapter
Four

Alone, Megan drummed her fingers
on the armrest of the chair and looked around with interest.  For some reason,
she’d expected a bigger command center for the ship. However, the actual space
rivaled that of her spare bedroom with less furniture. She knew the ship was
immense from her glimpse of the cargo bay and how much floor they’d traversed
when he’d carried her upside down—those long legs of his had an immense
stride—the impression compounded as they got on an elevator to change floors
for gods’ sake.

However, sizable as it all seemed,
the one thing his ship seemed to lack was other people, beings, aliens,
whatever she wanted to call them. Despite his purple color, she found herself
hard pressed to think of him as an extraterrestrial. He oozed too much
testosterone and chauvinism for that.
Just like a man back home.

It occurred to her she should
probably be more upset about her current situation—hysterical screaming and
hyperventilating came to mind—but honestly, after the shock of her attempted
murder, this space adventure she found herself on came as kind of a relief. And
it wasn’t like anyone would miss her; she had no family left to care about her,
part of the reason she was such an easy mark for preying men. She worked from
home as a web programmer and analyst, so no coworkers existed to wonder where
she’d gotten to. As for friends, Cameron made sure to estrange her from them.
Grooming
me for my eventual midnight swim, the jerk.

What truly pissed her off wasn’t
her currently odd situation, but the fact Cameron had probably made it back to
dock by now and probably celebrated her demise at his hands.
Spending my
money, the asshole.
She wanted to go back just so she could kill him
herself.

While thoughts of revenge and
annoyance at Cameron sustained her, the more immediate concern was her eventual
fate. Despite her captor’s threats, she didn’t get the impression he’d actually
abuse her, even if he kept threatening to kill or sell her. His smacks on her
ass had stung, but given his size and evident strength, he’d obviously held
back.
Not like some of her previous boyfriends who’d turned violent for
less provocation.
I honestly don’t think the purple pirate
will hurt me.
A possibly dumb intuition based on
nothing more than gut instinct, which in her case had shown itself as rather
unreliable in the past.

I have such a great track record
with men. If they’re not out to screw me, they’re fucking around on me, trying
to beat me or, in my newest scenario, murdering me.
She never put up with any of their shit, of course, but the pain of
their betrayals still hurt.
Is it so much to ask for a guy who’ll like me
for who I am; outspoken, curvy and all?

Maybe she should consider allowing
her captor to sell her as a sex slave, an object of value to someone, even if
alien. Allow herself to become someone who gave and received sexual pleasure.
I’m
good at that. I could become a first class courtesan and have my owner shower
me with presents,
an interesting fantasy for someone else. However, knowing
her penchant for giving orders, and stating her mind, it seemed an unlikely
scenario in her case.

Alone and in need of something to
occupy herself, she hopped up from the chair and prowled the control center, or
so she assumed even given the sparse decor. Unlike the
Star Trek
films
and shows she’d watched, there existed a definite lack of cool flashing lights,
buttons and levers. Just a lot of blank wall space with faint scribbles, a
chair and a big window like screen that showed nothing, not even her
reflection.

Boring.

She leaned against the screen and
tried to peer through it, wondering if perhaps it acted as a two way glass.

"Command console locked.
Please speak to confirm identity."

Megan reeled back at the feminine
voice that spoke from thin air. When nothing happened and no one appeared, she
lightly touched the screen with a finger.

"Command console locked.
Please speak to confirm identity."

This was more like it. A voice
activated computer. Cool. "Um, hi, I’m Megan."

"Invalid voice entry."

"So whose voice will work?"
Megan spoke aloud, but the computer didn’t reply. Her abductor probably had it
keyed for only him.

Foiled in that area, she wandered
around touching various panels where she found symbols, some of which caused
the computer to relay the same command, some of which did nothing. She also
tried to figure out how to open the door to the elevator thing, but ended up
kicking the wall in aggravation and stubbing her toes.

Annoyed, she threw herself at the
wall with a frustrated yell, pummeling it with her fists. When it suddenly slid
open, she stumbled forward into a brick wall with steadying hands.

"Are you done abusing my
vessel?" said her purple captor in his low sexy voice.

A shiver skated down her spine and
it had nothing to do with fear. Her hands, sprawled across his chest,
registered a steady thump, like a heartbeat; of course, it was on the wrong
side of his torso and lower, but it still made him seem more human. Awareness
of his body and an answering call in her lower tummy stunned her more, though.
Attracted
to a purple slave trader with pointed teeth? Am I completely insane?

Realizing he waited for her to
speak, she sprang on the first thought that came to mind, other than asking him
to remove his shirt so she could inspect him. "I’m bored and hungry,"
she complained, pushing back from him. She shot him a mutinous look as she
crossed her arms over her chest, mostly to hide her erect nipples that seemed
determined to catch his attention.

"I didn’t realize it was your
people’s custom to throw a tantrum like a young’un."

Her chin tilted stubbornly at his
rebuke. "Maybe if you hadn’t locked me up with nothing to do I wouldn’t
have to resort to childish tactics to get some attention."

She could have sworn she saw a
glint of humor momentarily light his eyes. "Oh, you have my attention.
Don’t blame me, though, if you don’t like it." He bared his teeth at her
and she rolled her eyes.

"Enough with the trying to
intimidate me. I’m no use to you dead, so unless you’re planning on starving me
as some sort of punishment, I need food."

"I have better ways of
chastising you." His eyes roved her body sensually. Megan couldn’t help
the bolt of heat that speared her cleft.

She pretended to not understand his
sexual innuendo. "Could you beat me after you feed me?"

"Follow me and I shall provide
sustenance. Perhaps it will improve your ill disposition." He smirked as
he stepped back into the elevator, and as she entered the tight space facing
him, she threw a dirty look at him for his remark. He leaned around her and she
sucked in a breath, expecting retaliation, only to release it when she realized
he simply wanted to push a button.

It occurred to her as the door slid
shut behind her she didn’t know if her space pirate had a name. Somehow purple
people eater didn’t seem apt. "My name is Megan, by the way, or do you not
name the merchandise you’re going to sell?"

She could have sworn his lips
twitched before his grim façade took over again. "I’m Tren, and I name all
the things I sell. New hover car. Relaxing retreat. Night at the Red Vulva. You
know, that type of thing."

It was her turn for her lips to
quirk. "Touché. So, I have to ask, if my people are such barbarians, how
is it you know our language?"

"I don’t, the translator does.
It is standard protocol for the devices to be programmed with all known
languages, defunct or not. Although, I believe the version for your planet
might be somewhat out of date given some of your expressions aren’t
translating."

Megan inclined her head in
understanding. "Pop culture references I’ll bet."

"And this Han Solo I heard you
mention before, he is a pop culture?" His clear blue eyes bored into hers
as the elevator stopped, and she almost fidgeted at his intense look.

"He’s a movie character. From
Star
Wars
." At his blank look, she laughed. "I don’t think I can
explain this without you seeing the actual movie. But, basically, your whole
bad ass buccaneer look was first done by Harrison Ford who played Han Solo in
the
Star Wars
trilogy."

The brows of her captor drew
together. "I am not an actor."

She rolled her eyes. "Well,
duh. I’m just saying, at first glimpse you reminded me of him in that role. But
don’t worry, now that I’ve really gotten to look at you without the whole pain
and exhaustion thing messing me up, I’ve changed that comparison to Johnny Depp
in
Pirates of the Caribbean
. Except you have whiter teeth, pointier,
too."

His lips tightened at her words. "Nothing
you’ve just said makes much sense. I am myself, and while there are those who
would try to copy me, I am unique." He stepped from the elevator into a
long hall, his back stiff.

Megan laughed. It appeared as if
Tren, her purple pirate, was offended. "I never said you weren’t unique."
He swiveled to peer back at her and shot her a dark glare. She smirked, and
with a shake of his head, he turned back again. "Just forget it. So where
are we going?"

"My quarters."

Megan stopped walking. "Excuse
me. When I said I was hungry, I meant for food, not sex."

He craned to look at her over his
shoulder and she definitely couldn’t mistake his slow grin this time. It
transformed his face and made her heart stutter. "Who said anything about
sex? It’s where the food replicator is located. Although, since you keep
offering, I am not averse to testing the merchandise after our meal."

Megan’s mouth rounded into an ‘O’
of surprise. "Like hell."

"I would assume you mean no.
But do not blame me for offering. You are the one who keeps referring to
intercourse. I was just trying to meet your obviously insatiable needs."
He eyed her frame up and down in a slow perusal that ignited a slow burn
between her legs.

She pressed her thighs tight together.
"I need another lover like I need a hole in my head. No thank you. And I
am not some kind of nymphomaniac." Even if the current conversation was
making her hot.

"If you say so," he
drawled as he led the way into a large suite, which, of course, held a massive
round bed.

Megan ignored it, afraid any
comment would lead him to believe she wanted to test its springs—which her
pussy certainly did—but went against the grain. While she enjoyed a healthy
sexual appetite, she had one teensy tiny requirement in her partners. She had
to at least like them.

She wandered around the space
noting the table bordered by chairs that appeared made of rubber. A shelving
unit built into the wall held strange objects, figurines of creatures, but like
she’d never imagined. One appeared a mix of fairy and a dragon in a rainbow of
colors. Another, a voluptuous woman with five boobs, waved four arms.

"Are these real creatures?"
she asked running her finger across their varied surfaces.

"Keepsakes from some of my
more notable conquests," he boasted.

She snatched her hand back and
whirled with wide eyes. "You fucked all of them?"

He frowned at her. "If you
mean had sex, then yes. But that’s only a fraction of the females I’ve been
with, and like I said, the most memorable."

"Great, I’m stuck on a ship
with man whore," she snorted with disgust; although, she couldn’t deny a
certain curiosity.
Exactly how knowledgeable is he about the female form?

"I am not paid to pleasure my
partners. However, if the need is great and I am not in the mood to woo, then I
will recompense a female for her time."

"Great. I made it to space and
met my first alien only to discover men all over the universe are pigs."

Tren’s brow knitted into a frown. "I
do not like your tone or implication. My method is the one most widely followed
through the known universe. How do your people handle their sexual needs?"

"We date. You know, go out to
dinner, maybe see a movie. Then, if we like each other, we go to bed."

Tren laughed, a short barking
sound. "So instead of exchanging credits, you are purchased for a meal or
an evening of entertainment. I see no difference other than your females can be
cheaply bought. And at least my conquests don’t try to kill me after we’re
done."

His reference to her boyfriend’s
attempted murder rankled and Megan glared at him. "I’m really starting to
dislike you."

"Good. I hate clingy females."

With that rejoinder, he turned his
back on her and fiddled with something on the wall above the table. A moment
later, an odd aroma tickled her nose.

Curious, she stepped forward and
saw two plates, the steam still rising, resting on the table. "What is
that?"

"Food."

She slid into the rubber chair
which molded to fit her bottom and almost caused her to scream. When she
realized her seat wasn’t about to swallow her, she relaxed enough to poke at
the purple and green stuff on her plate, interspersed with white marble things.
"What kind of food?"